


Moment to Moment

by sociallyawkwardtoaster



Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game), Guild Wars Series (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Slice of Life, but mostly just pre-HoT, it'll make sense when i get to it, various canon characters will pop in and out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27241039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sociallyawkwardtoaster/pseuds/sociallyawkwardtoaster
Summary: A collection of moments from the life and times of the Commander's Company: sylvari ranger and Pact Commander Feyn, charr deadeye Bato Ghostclaw, and asura elementalist Pathfinder Gheli.





	1. Once Upon a Dream

Deep in Caledon Forest, safe in the branches and lights of the Grove, a sapling sat in the presence of her mother.

The Pale Tree had time to spare for all her children, but in these moments Feyn could be convinced she was the only sylvari in the world. No matter what was on her mind, she could always trust her mother would sincerely listen. No request too great, no question too foolish, no topic too taboo. In all things, the Pale Tree would gladly provide with a tender smile and an encouraging word.

“Pale Mother?” Feyn asked one day, sitting among the lilies.

The Tree looked at her, her face full of the same kindness and warmth as it always was. “Yes, my child?”

“What is the world outside the forest like?”

The Tree smiled and looked out over the trees to the vast horizon to the east. “The land of Tyria is vast and wide, and filled with all manner of life. There are mountains that touch the sky, valleys blooming with every color, and oceans that stretch as far as the eye can see.”

Feyn closed her eyes and felt images dance through the Dream as the Pale Tree spoke. “It sounds so beautiful.”

“Yes,” the Tree replied, “but it is also home to many dangers. When Valiants who roam outside the jungle return to the Dream, they bring back whispers of war and disaster. Men, asura, norn and charr fight every day of their lives to maintain peace, lest fear and hatred take hold and they turn on each other and themselves.”

“How dreadful!” Feyn said, shivering. “But some sylvari leave the forest and never return. Why would anyone want to live out there, when they could be safe in here? Well, safe _-er_ , I mean.”

“Because for all its dangers, the wide-open world holds many beautiful and wonderful things, and it is for these things that all good men and women fight evil. One day, your own Wyld Hunt may call you somewhere out there to protect all that is good.”

Feyn was quiet for a moment. “I think I’d prefer for my Hunt to keep me here, with you,” she said, drawing her knees close to her chest.

The Pale Tree laughed in her motherly way. “Only time will tell, my child. Only time will tell.”

* * *

In her dream, Feyn was running.

The forest blurred around her as she sprinted away from the thing that chased her. Golden sap oozed from a dozen cuts as she dodged branches and lept over rocks, terrified of the very trees she believed her safe from all dangers.

She felt a sharp tug as her foot caught on a low root, crying out as she fell into the mud and dirt. Feyn looked up and saw it; a nightmarish creature of twisted, rotting wood, stone and earth, tearing through the forest without a care for the obstacles in its way. It would reach her soon, and it would end her without a second thought.

Her hands searched around her in a panic, suddenly coming into contact with something long and firm. Grasping to it desperately, she felt a voice unlike any she had ever heard before speak straight into her thoughts:

_Stand and fight. For your brothers and sisters. For all who are free._

The monster continued to barrel forward as Feyn pulled the object in front of her, the mud and grime dripping off to reveal a bow and arrow. Logic told her a single shot could never take down such a beast. But with an almost alien sense of confidence, she knew it would be far better to fall _trying_.

She drew the arrow, taking aim as the weapon began to glow brighter and brighter as the string grew taught in her grip. She waited, arms twitching and breath shaking, until the exact right moment and – _thwip!_

The arrow soared thought the branches, piercing the nightmare between the eyes with a bright flash of light. The best howled in pain and anger, thrashing about and still getting closer, closer, until another arrow came from the right into its wing. It was joined by another, and another, becoming a storm of arrows raining down from all directions, and when the last one made its mark, the monster came crashing down, lifeless, just feet from where Feyn sat.

Slowly, Feyn felt the dream begin to fade. As the last of the forest disappeared into emptiness, she heard the voice once more:

_Act with wisdom, but act. The world will not wait for another._

* * *

Morning came, and once again Feyn was in the presence of the Tree. “Pale Mother?”

The Tree turned to her, the same welcoming expression as always. “Yes, my child?”

The sapling – but perhaps not for much longer – swallowed but did her best to stand tall. “I think I know what my Hunt is.”


	2. Dust and Echoes

A cub learns a lot of things in the fahrar.

From the moment they’re able to hold a sword above their head, they’re taught how to best swing a blade, to hit a target from a hundred paces, how to take a hit and keep fighting. For all charr, life is war, and cubs need to be prepared without exception.

But the most important lessons Bato learned happened when the instructors weren’t around. When the older boys lived out age-old prejudices. When everyone in the Black Citadel learned what her father had done.

“Traitor.” The term would ring in her mind for years as it became the first explanation for why she ever failed to perform. The apple never falls far from the tree, after all. If Bato were ever to stumble, clearly that was the reason.

It took a lot of broken noses for that to stop.

But for all the abuse from both instructors and fellow cubs, Bato never regretted her time in the fahrar. Her teachers taught her to be a soldier; the other cubs taught her to survive. Every lesson made her stronger, her skills sharper, and shaped her into what she was meant to be.

And yet no amount of instruction can prepare a soldier for the consequences of war.

* * *

She sat on a stump in the shade, running a whetstone along the edge of her dagger. The walls of Ascalon, once a proud and strong statement of human prosperity, now only served to give shade to visitors to the graveyard. Countless rows shot down the length of the ruined wall and beyond, memorializing the blood, sweat and tears that formed the foundation of the charr nation as it now stood.

Before her, just beyond the glint of the steel in her hand, sat four graves, bunched together as tradition demanded warbands be buried. The smell of freshly moved dirt still lingered in the air, and the headstones lacked the sun-stained color of the others around them.

Bato grimaced as the whetstone made a satisfying scrape against her balde. Four new graves. Four more ghosts in Ascalon.

She didn’t need to look up to know who made the cough from behind her. Reeva made her way over slowly, fumbling with a spent bullet casing in her hand for a moment before finally breaking the silence.

“So,” she sighed, “no more warband, huh?”

Bato didn’t reply, focusing instead on her work. _Shink, shink._

“Still doesn’t feel real, you know? I got separated from the rest during the fight; wanted to teach those ghosts they couldn’t outrun my shots. Didn’t even realize they were missing until I woke up the next morning.”

_Shink, shink._

“At least they don’t have to deal with being galdium. I know, it’s not the end of the world, but I’ve heard all sorts of stories about how hard it can be to connect with an established warband. Like coming to a drinking party late when everyone else is already a half a dozen rounds in. Maybe it does work out later, but getting there - ugh.”

_Shink, shink._

“Plus, there’s, you know, always the possibility we just never get picked up. Guess there’s always mercenary work or the Lionguard, but I know for a fact you’d hate that.” She chuckled awkwardly. “Ash and Iron blood runs too deep in us. We’d go crazy out there without the Imperators telling us what to do.”

_Shink, shink._

Reeva stamped her foot. “Damn it, Bato, say _something_ \- ”

“You’re worrying,” said Bato, eyes never leaving her dagger.

“Yeah, I am!” Reeva stood in front of her, grabbing her arm to pull it away from her gaze. “I’m worried about you! Our entire warband was slaughtered by those damn ghosts and you don’t seem to care.”

Bato wrenched her arm out of Reeva’s grip. “My heart aches for them just as much as yours. But they’re gone. We can only move forward.”

Reeva growled as she finally sat. “Don’t see where we have to move forward to. Joining a new warband doesn’t feel right, but we can’t just be gladium forever.”

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Yeah? How do you figure?”

Bato looked at her friend, allowing her face to soften at last. “Because we’re not gladium.”

Reeva stared. “Come again?”

“Our friends are gone. We will mourn them and miss them. But right now, there’s still you - ” she bought up her knife, pointing it at Reeva, and then back at herself, “and me. By my math, that makes us a warband.”

Silence fell on the graveyard as Bato returned to her whetstone. Reeva looked to the graves for a moment, then chuckled. “So you want to rebuild instead of start over. Sounds easier and harder at the same time.”

The sound of the whetstone stopped. “It won’t be the same.” Bato said, her voice nearly a whisper. “But it doesn’t have to be.”

“Yeah,” Reeva nodded, before a smile overtook her face. “And we’ll move forward for them, instead of in spite of them.” She shuffled closer to her friend, putting a claw on Bato’s shoulder. “We’ll need a new name.”

“You’re the wordsmith, not me.”

“I resent that, but I’ve got an idea.” She raised her hand in front of them, as though unveiling a masterpiece. “The Ghost warband - named in honor of their fallen friends and in defiance of the armies of Ascalon! Following their fierce and loyal leader, Bato Ghostknife - ”

It was Bato’s turn to grin. “Ghostknife? Really?”

“Hey, it’s just an idea,” Reeva shrugged, “I’m not super big on surnames myself. I thought about changing my name to ‘Reeva the Cleava’ once, but once I started saying it out loud the novelty wore off really quick…”

She continued as the two stood up and began the walk back to the Black Citadel. As they walked, Bato took one last look back at the four graves, slowly shrinking into the growing shadows of the evening.

Four new graves. Four more ghosts of Ascalon.

And four more reasons to keep fighting.


	3. Extra - The Elementalist's New Clothes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For tyrias-library's Halloween event on tumblr!
> 
> Prompt: Costume

“I can’t believe NEITHER of you dressed up!”

Pathfinder Gheli pouted under the soft light of the festive torches. The Festival of the Mad King had come once again, and Coriolis Plaza was a hive of activity full of people of all races arriving in Lion’s Arch for business and pleasure. Humans, sylvari, norn, asura and charr of all ages filtered in and out of the gates, dressed head to toe in all manner of costumes, ready for a night of fun, frivolity, and probably more than a few cavaties.

Everyone, it seemed, except for the charr and sylvari standing before her.

“I’m sorry,” Feyn said, a bit sheepish, “The festival snuck up on me this year, so I didn’t have time to prepare anything.”

The asura scoffed. “That’s what you said last year. And the year before.”

Feyn coughed into her fist. “I, er, suppose I’m just a busy woman. Pact Commander, and all that.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Bato chuckled.

“So what’s your excuse?” Gheli marched up to the charr, not a single bit intimidated by the sheer difference in size. “I thought Ash Legion was all about disguises!”

“What you’re wearing hardly counts as a disguise.”

The asura stepped back, looking every bit as though Bato had just insulted her degree. “I spent all night on this! There isn’t a single stitch or thread that isn’t perfectly made. You won’t ever find a more fitting dress for the holiday!”

Said “perfectly made” outfit was actually fairly similar to her usual garb, save for the fact that it was all pitch-black head to toe. The most significant difference besides the color was the addition of a large, floppy witch’s hat that could have almost fit her entire body. Bato decided she might have to test that theory out before the night was over.

Outwardly, Bato shrugged. “Just saying you’re not going to make anyone think you’re an actual witch.”

“And I’m glad for it,” Feyn said. “I can still hear the Lionguard lecturing us last year about that karka tonic.”

Gehli dragged her hands down her face. “Ugh, that was _one time!_ It’s not my fault most non-asura can’t appreciate the science behind a transformation tonic of that scale.”

“Still, Bato has a point. You do have a habit of taking the festival a bit _too_ seriously.”

“Don’t you see?” the asura exclaimed, beginning to gesture wildly. “What’s the point of celebrating if you’re not going to go all out? People are already pulling pranks, going door to door for candy, and going on rampages in the Mad King’s Realm! Dressing up is only the proper thing to do to celebrate.”

“You’re just going to see how many humans you can trick into thinking you’re a kid out trick-or-treating,” Bato grumbled.

“Deceiving humans into additional handouts is a convenient side benefit, yes.”

“Well, we’d better get a move on,” Feyn said, clearing her throat, “I do believe the next round of Mad King Says is supposed to start soon.”

Gheli gasped and darted off, tightly clutching her hat as it bobbed in time with her steps. “Not without me they’re not!”

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, guess I'm writing fanfiction seriously again.
> 
> If you're interested, check out my gw2 sideblog at https://commanders-company-chronicles.tumblr.com/ for more about the characters that will be appearing in this series.


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